See Spot Run
by Babylon By Candlelight
Summary: It all began with an innocent bedtime story... Faced with a life making decision, Ginny must decide what's worth more to her: her life, or her reputation.
1. Run

**_Disclaimer: _**I do not own Spot, Harry Potter, or anything you recognize in this fanfic. I just own my twisted little plot bunny.

**_Author's Note:_** Sure, they may seem out of character for Harry, but… Somehow, I can see this happening, since we all know Harry has temper tantrums. Also, I don't know whether or not to make this into a chaptered story, or leave it as a one-shot. So tell me – do you want more, or should I leave it where it ends?

"Harry, I don't want to read her this book. It's stupid, she's only a year old, it's not like it's going to help her function in the real world. It'll just kill off _my_ brain cells!" Ginny complained to her husband of just two years.

"Ginny, please just read her the damned book," Harry replied, shaking his head and grinning. "It's a book for five year olds, and it won't be that bad. It can't be worse than reading 'The Happiest Puppy', and that's what I had to go through last week!" He flicked his wife on the cheek, then left the nursery.

Ginny rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at Harry as he left, then picked up their year-old daughter, Jamie. "You don't want me to read 'See Spot Run' do you?" She asked, tickling the little girl's feet and earning happy, gurgling noises from her. "You think the book is stupid too. You want Mummy to read from 'Kama Sutra', don't you?"

"Ginny Potter, don't you dare!" came the yell from the living room where Harry sat, and the redhead sighed again.

"Daddy hates us both," she whispered conspiratorially towards her young daughter, smirking. "Daddy wants you to grow up to be stupid, and Mummy to kill herself from misery." Ginny pushed her hair back, and sighed. "Might as well get it over with, eh Jamie?"

She picked up her daughter and sat down in a chair, holding the baby girl who's dark red hair had lately been coming in thicker on top of her pale head in her arms, breathing in the scent special only to babies. The book was in her hands, but Ginny didn't open it just yet. When all was quiet like this, and it was just her and Jamie with Harry out of the room, she often liked to reflect on her life.

_Harry had defeated Voldemort after discovering the final Horcrux; what it had been, he refused to tell anyone. He had come back from the battle looking horrified, and strained. Ron and Hermione couldn't get him to talk about it; he would only say that he did something he never would have done under any other circumstances, and that he couldn't live with himself if anyone else knew. No one had ever pushed him to talk about it, because something had changed in Harry ever since that day. His usually sparkling green eyes had turned cold and numb, and for months no one had been able to make him laugh. To push him, to force him to talk about it, would only earn someone the unfortunate prize of his harsh stare turned on them, and no one wanted that. Not anymore._

_Ginny had come to his room one night at the Burrow, where he had been made unofficial residence, because she had heard him having a nightmare. It had taken awhile to get him to admit he had a problem, but that night he had broken down, and the next day, checked himself into St. Mungo's. He was treated for severe depression and post-traumatic stress disorder. After a year in therapy, he had re-emerged into the Wizarding world, the sparkle back in his green eyes. He still wouldn't talk about what had happened, but no one questioned it this time. They knew he had a right to keep it a secret, because he was the one who had to live with himself._

_He and Ginny became a couple only a few weeks after he left St. Mungo's. No one was really surprised by this, least of all Ginny. She still loved him of course; she had since she was eleven, and time had done nothing but strengthen it. A year after they had been together, Harry proposed. Six months after that, they were married, and not too long afterwards, Ginny became pregnant._

Ginny smiled slightly, remembering the happy times. However, her face soon fell as she was brought back to reality by Jamie tugging on her lower lip, but she laughed. "All right kidd-o, let's go." She opened the book, and groaned. "You can't be serious…" Ginny muttered, but took a deep breath and began reading:

"This is Spot. See Spot. Spot likes to run. See Spot run all over town. Run Spot, ru –"

Her voice trailed off as she groaned again – there was no way she could read this book. She could hardly read books that interested her, let alone one's that were so inane, even Jamie couldn't stay awake. She rocked Jamie slowly, hoping that she would fall asleep and she would get out of Book Duty for awhile, or at least until she could find a better story to read. As the rocking became lulling, she felt her mind wandering once again, her brown eyes fixed on her beautiful daughter.

_When Jamie (Jamie Adriana Potter) was born, everything changed. Harry started working longer hours at the Ministry of Magic (he had surprisingly not become an Auror, but instead worked in International Affairs), and was hardly home. Ginny took care of Jamie as best she could, but she missed her husband terribly. One night, she had come home to find him passed out on the couch, a huge bottle of Ogden's Fire Whiskey next to him, while Jamie cried in her room. After tending to her daughter, she sobered Harry up, and delivered an ultimatum – he straight himself out, or he left. _

_That had been three months ago. Harry had been trying, but things were still strained. When he wasn't skulking around acting like an infant, he was telling her what to do and demanding it be done then and there. Ginny was attempting to be understanding, because she still loved him so much, but she wasn't sure how much she could take…_

"Okay Jamie, let's get through this. We can do it!" Ginny looked at the book, at her daughter's bored, expectant face, and smirked. "Oh, we'll do this all right…" She picked up the book, and began to say, in imitation of reading, loudly:

"See Spot Run. Spot runs lots. Spot likes running! Spot enters town. Spot runs there. Spot runs fast! Spot's too fast! Spot chases cars. Spot races cars. Cars are fast. One sees nothing. Sees no Spot. Runs over Spot! Spot gets hurt. Owie kills Spot. Spot is dead. All are happy. No idiot Spot!"

"GINNY POTTER!"

"But Harry, _she_ was bored too!"

_---Scene Change---_

Later that night, after Jamie had been asleep for a few hours, Harry called Ginny into the living room. As she entered, she was met with a fist slammed into her jaw. She fell to the floor, holding her face and staring up at Harry in shock. He stood above her, smiling with cruel satisfaction.

"You couldn't just read the damn book, could you? You think you're so _fucking_ smart!" He yelled, his words slurred. Ginny closed her eyes tightly; he was drunk again. "You think you're better than me, don't you? Just because you're higher up in the department than I am doesn't mean that you can push me around! You probably fucked him to get there anyway, you slut!"

_The day Ginny's promotion at the Ministry came had been a bad one. She had started out in the Muggle Liaison branch, but through her hard work, had been promoted finally to Undersecretary to the Minister, who was currently Dean Thomas. At her celebration party thrown by her brother Charlie, Harry could be seen sulking in the corner, downing Firewhiskey after Firewhiskey down his throat. When the two had finally gotten home, Harry had thrown Ginny into a wall screaming about how she was trying to show him up._

"Harry, please stop, you'll wake Jamie up," Ginny pleaded in a loud whisper, getting up from the floor and standing in front of Harry.

"Don't tell me what to do," he muttered, pushing her away from him. "You're not my damned mother." He slumped back on the couch, immediately falling asleep. Ginny stood there looking at him, before taking a deep breath and heading into her bedroom.

_---Scene Change---_

Ginny's suitcase was packed in under fifteen minutes – after using a Packing charm and going into Jamie's room to pack up her necessities (Ginny felt guilty after putting a Silencing charm on her daughter, but she couldn't risk her making noise if she woke up), the mother and daughter were out the door. Ginny Apparated into Diagon Alley, where she went into a public restroom and quickly performed a glamour on herself. Her deep red hair slowly lightened to blonde; her brown eyes became blue, and her fair skin lost its freckles. Her height adjusted from 5'5" to 5'7", her figure became tall and willowy instead of its hourglass shape. Jamie's hair was changed to light brown, and was given blue eyes too.

After going to Gringotts and exchanging Wizarding money for Muggle pounds, Ginny went back into the center of Diagon Alley with her daughter, and Apparated to a café in Muggle London. Inside the café's bathroom, she looked at herself, and at her daughter. Taking a deep breath, she reached into her pocket and took out her wand. She thought about Harry, and how much she loved him, despite the monster he had turned into lately. Then she looked at the forming bruises on her face, and the places on her arms and sides where the old bruises hadn't quite faded yet.

And then, Ginny snapped her wand in half.


	2. Twenty

_**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Harry Potter. If you don't get this by now, then you need special classes.

_**For:**_ Roxanne, who should be happy for a completely fictional update.

It took very little time for Ginny to fully realize what she had done. In that time, she had booked a room at a hotel under a fake name (she didn't know how long it would take her husband to start searching in the Muggle world, but she didn't want to make it any easier for him), put her daughter to sleep, and sunk down on the bed, head in her hands. Twenty minutes, while in the grand scheme of things is of miniscule importance, can feel a lifetime to someone who has just realized the fully impact and possible consequences of their actions. Actions that cannot be undone, at least not without the danger of repercussions, repercussions that may or may not drastically affect her life – or lack thereof.

_I'm so stupid_, was all that the redhead could think as she paced the room, finding that she could not bear to sit on the bed and wonder idly if every footstep that passed her door would be _his_. Pacing didn't do much to help the tension overtaking her body, but it was at least some release. _How could I do this? How could I just fly off the handle, just pick up and leave like that?_

It had been that damned bruise on the side of her face, she knew that. There had been one in the exact same place the week before, and for all she knew, there would be a new one forming before this one had gotten the chance to heal if she hadn't left as she did. Healing charms could only do so much before their effects lacked, before the area was simply so damaged that the process had to be left up to nature, to the Muggle way. Ginny was tired of it; she was only twenty-three years old, she should not have been horrified at her gaunt face, the way her kidneys hurt, or the way she flinched whenever someone made a sudden movement. She shouldn't have been exiled from her family, not under Harry's orders but her own fears that someone would notice – her even greater fear that someone wouldn't.

Jamie stirred on the bed and automatically Ginny stooped to pick her up, the pain in her back flashing briefly before settling into the dull ache she had become accustomed to. It took Ginny a moment to remember how to prepare formula the Muggle way, but she struggled very little. After burping her daughter and changing her diaper, Ginny lulled her back to sleep, placing her once more on the bed. She wished that she could have brought the crib, but that was an impossibility, not to mention a liability.

Although such brief thoughts as the crib were not as important as what she was to actually do next, Ginny found the superfluous mental ramblings a comfort. If she could fill her subconscious with meaningless trivialities, it would postpone the moment when she had to make another decision, when she would have to take responsibility for the rash actions, when… there were simply too many "whens", and she wasn't quite sure she could handle them.

_That's your own fault though, isn't it?_ The nasty little inner voice came again, almost caressingly, with a taunting edge. _You made your choice, now own it. There's still time to go back on it. You could go back to him; you at least know what to expect, what's going to happen everyday… There's no uncertainty there, and you know that even though you may have to pay for it, you have security – you're taken care of. You could always go back._

But she couldn't, that was something that Ginny was almost entirely certain of. Although her traitorous mind was tempting her with an option that sounded easy, she knew that it would be the hardest, and most entirely idiotic, thing she could ever do. Yes, go back to him, go back to the beatings, the degradation, the absolute control that he wielded over her life – go back to what was essentially a prison in the shape of a suburban, two-story house that most women would kill to run. Go back to the suburban, two-story house that just may end up killing her in the form of those piercing, frightening, _angry_ green eyes.

The eyes were what really made her pack up, take her daughter and go. It wasn't the bruises, it wasn't even the drinking. It was the sheer hatred that surfaced in those eyes when he lost control that screamed to the world, _you deserve this_. It was the merciless glint they took. Harry had his mother's eyes, but he filled them with emotions that she wasn't sure Lily ever knew existed. Harry had his mother's eyes, and Jamie had her father's – Ginny could hardly stand to see the rage that filled Harry's eyes, but she knew already that she could never endure seeing fear fill her daughter's, fear of a man who was supposed to protect her. Jamie may have been too young to understand what exactly was happening, but already she began to whimper when the yelling began. She wasn't tainted yet, not beyond repair, because young memory does fade; Ginny would not allow her to reach a point where Harry would stick in her mind. She wasn't sure if their child would in time become a target as well, and she refused to find out.

What was she going to do, though? She had money, at least for the moment; she had started another bank account with Harry's knowledge, knowing that there might have come a time when she needed funding he would not allow her to have, but she didn't know how long she and her infant daughter could live off of it. _She didn't know what to do,_ and the helpless feeling made her feel the anger that comes with sheer frustration. She knew that she had done this very wrongly, but she didn't have time to stop and think when the moment had come. Now what? _Now what?_

It occurred to her briefly to go to her family, but she knew that they adored Harry and would not have believed her story, or would have told her that she needed to stick by her husband in his time of hardship. Molly would have insisted that Jamie needed a father, and that Harry would eventually get his life back on track. As for Ron and Hermione, well… Ron may have protected her where the world was concerned, but Harry was another story. Hermione and she had never been especially close, because when you had The Boy Who Lived and his best friend as your two closest confidantes, who needed anyone else? And while her father may have loved her, or even wanted to help, he was so under Molly's thumb that the risk and his own personal punishments from the matriarch simply would not have been worth it. No, her family would be of no help to her, as much as it pained her to admit it. There were no friends from Hogwarts that were especially trustworthy either; and with McGonagall and Dumbledore dead, no teachers could be counted on.

Ginerva Potter was utterly alone, and felt every stabbing, icy knife that accompanied the numbing emotion.

She cried very little that night, too exhausted and paranoid to allow herself to fall into depression. A few tears escaped before she gained control, but mainly she sat at the desk provided in the room and thought. Thought about a great deal of things, but she tried to focus on her next step. That was the key, she realized, take it one step at a time. If she tried to do more, Ginny knew that she would fall apart, and she couldn't allow that to happen.

When morning came, Ginny had come to an answer. It wasn't one she particularly liked – in fact, if she had found any other solution, any other path, she would have taken it. Despite the lack of sleep, she knew that it was the safest, even the most secure, way to go, despite the many, many things that could go wrong. A wry grin crossed her face as she thought that – no, not the things that could go wrong, but the things that would most likely be _made_ to go wrong, considering.

She bundled up Jamie and bought a bus ticket across town, getting off at the second-to-last stop. Ginny hesitated briefly, a bit disoriented by the Muggle perspective of looking at things. After getting her bearings together, she began to walk south, Jamie securely in a carrier on her back. It took the better part of half an hour, time that she couldn't have wasted overshooting her mark on the bus, even though it would have been faster and more comfortable. She found herself in front of a very normal looking house, at least normal to the untrained eye. To her, it was possibly the beginning of her future; it was at least another step she could take. Still in disbelief about what she was going to do, Ginny raised her hand and knocked on the door. It took a minute to open, but when it did, she grimly relished the look of absolute shock, befuddlement, and still the tiniest bit of habitual hatred on the face behind it.

"_Weasley?"_

"I need your help, Malfoy."


	3. A New Kind Of Family

_**Disclaimer:**_ If I was making any money off of this, wouldn't I be published by now, and thus not writing fanfiction? Think, people, think!

_**Author's Note:**_ Man… college is awesome. I might update more frequently now that I have free time everyday. Don't count on it though… I _am_ lazy. Sorry for the short chapter, but it's really just an interlude, so it didn't need to be much longer than this.

The sheer embarrassment of the situation was almost worth the astounded expression on Draco Malfoy's face as Ginny was led through the winding halls and passageways of Malfoy Manor, until coming to, as he put it, the "formal parlour". They were both silent at first, neither willing to break the ice as she sat stiffly on a hard-back couch, Malfoy taking the more comfortable chair directly across from her. After a minute, he cleared his throat. "You know, Weasley, when I made that offer of assistance, it was back when, you know, there were still Death Eaters running amok, and your family was in actual danger. I didn't exactly mean that seven or eight years later, you could show up on my doorstep."

Ginny winced to herself, though on her face, Malfoy's words seemed to have no affect on her whatsoever. She couldn't let him know just how desperate she was unless it was absolutely necessary; she knew that while he had reformed and come to the Light side before Voldemort fell, Draco Malfoy was not a nice man. He was shrewd, clever, and dangerous, to say the least. It was a big risk, not only coming here, but bringing her daughter here as well, but the fact of the matter was, Harry would never think to check here. Despite his help in the final war, Harry and Malfoy still hated each other unconditionally, and both preferred it that way. There was no great reconciliation, no coming to an understanding, no apologies for past wrongs. It was for that reason alone that Ginny knew, no matter how much he would lord it over her head, Malfoy would allow her to stay here for awhile – because when it was all over with, and she was safely out of her husband's reach, Malfoy would love nothing more than to shove it in Harry's face day after day that not only had his wife run from him, but she had showed up asking him, a Malfoy, for help. He would never live it down – Draco would make sure of that.

"You're going to help me Malfoy, for one very simple reason. It will destroy Harry when you finally tell him." Her voice was calm, flat almost, with no emotion or inflection in it. Inside, she was shaking, and as a shadow passed over Malfoy's face, she became anxious, nervous that she had overestimated the feud between Harry and Malfoy; that perhaps this was asking too much, that he did not hate Harry enough to humiliate him in such a way. Then he smiled, smirked really, and she breathed again.

"You make an interesting point, Weasley, but I don't think that's good enough. What else is in it for me?" His vocie was oily, slippery, and Ginny's stomach turned; this was not going to end well, she could tell already. Her eyes flashed, and she suddenly became angry.

"I'm not going to sleep with you, Malfoy. Don't you have any whores for that?"

Something about this seemed to amuse Malfoy, but he refrained from answering. "Look Weasley, I don't have to help you. I hate you only slightly less than I hate your _husband_, and it would give me great pleasure to firecall him right now and tell him that I have something in my house that belongs to him. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't, as a matter of fact. That way, not only do I get to see both you _and_ Potter suffer, but I won't have to put up with you under my feet all day."

Panic seized her, and she quickly shook her head. "No, Malfoy, please. Don't do that. Not just for me, but for my daughter. Please, I don't want her to be hurt the way I have been."

"Not a good enough reason Weasley, _so_ sorry," he replied, faux-sympathy dripping in his otherwise malicious tones. "As much as I would hate to see your precious little daughter hurt – well, in all honestly, it wouldn't fuss me too much. I could go on sleeping at night just fine. After all, it isn't my place to separate a girl from her father."

Ginny hung her head, knowing now that she was defeated. Any appeal at sympathy from this man would only end in more threats, or false indicators of sorrow. She knew that Malfoy was cruel, but she didn't know he would take this much delight in tormenting her, keeping her dangling on edge. She knew now that nothing short of total domination over her life would secure his promise of safety. If it had been just Ginny, without her daughter, she would have told Malfoy to stick it, but… it wasn't just her anymore. She had Jamie to think of, to put first. As hard as her life in Malfoy Manor was bound to be, she doubted that Malfoy really could be that horrible to an infant. Nothing could be as bad as the daily beatings, the living in constant fear of her husband.

And besides… no matter how bad Malfoy was, he wasn't supposed to love her, to protect her. The fact that someone who had vowed to stay by her side and care for her could so maliciously beat her hurt worse than any humiliation Malfoy was bound to put her through. She took a deep breath, holding Jamie close to her, before speaking. "I'll do whatever you want, Malfoy. Just protect us from Harry."

A mad gleam momentarily entered Malfoy's eyes, before it faded and he nodded in satisfaction. "Can do, Weasley. Can do."

He stood up and motioned for her to follow him, and led her to a spacious room on the third floor of the Manor, a nursery, judging from the crib and changing station. She put Jamie down for a nap after feeding her and putting a new diaper on her. Malfoy watched all this "mothering" with distinct boredom, only speaking after she had finished, and even then it was only to command her to follow him. Four floors and numerous hallways later, she was in the dungeons. Admittedly, they were large and even comfortable looking, but just why he led her down here, Ginny didn't know. They stopped at the door of what seemed to be an enormous room, and Malfoy turned to her, a look of grim, satisfied pleasure on his face.

"Malfoy… what's behind that door?" Ginny asked in an almost quavering voice, images of torture devices and dangerous creatures flitting through her head. He smirked even more.

"It's funny how you mentioned whores earlier, Weasley." With that, he kicked open the door to reveal a room full of half-clothed women, wearing all sorts of lingerie, leather, even a few with collars and spikes on. He spoke again now, malevolent glee in his tone.

"Welcome to the family, Ginny."


End file.
